


The Secret Societies of Loveless Boys

by BoysWillBePups



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Human AU, M/M, a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoysWillBePups/pseuds/BoysWillBePups
Summary: Liam was inspired by an iconic rom-com as a kid and has been collecting different copies of the same book ever since. Usually, the past lives of the used copies don't make him feel this way, so fluttery and real, but the copy that he was gifted for Christmas changes that. He had always believed that he collected the novel to learn about others, to have glimpses into their lives, but maybe he really was searching for something the whole time.
Relationships: Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 16
Kudos: 26
Collections: Thiam Holiday Gift Exchange 2020





	The Secret Societies of Loveless Boys

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sefinh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefinh/gifts).



> This is for Sefinh for the OTL gift exchange. I really hope that you like it, and I hope that I have done your prompt some justice! 
> 
> I also made a [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5UkvtHgH8w74NoBcio9iqq), hope you like it!

It started with the film _Definitely, Maybe_ , one of Jenna’s favourite rom coms. She was only dating David at the time of the movie’s release, though they had been dating for a few years at that point. David was already like a dad to Liam, and Liam had started calling him dad only a year into David and Jenna’s relationship. Jenna had smiled, a rare, huge, bright smile that Liam’s only seen a handful of times, and she would turn to David and tell him, “I always told Liam that the other man was never meant to be his dad.”

Despite the closeness of the three of them, Jenna still did her best to take Liam out as much as she could. Jenna discovered after she had brought Liam along to watch _Mamma Mia!_ that her son was actually quite fond of romantic comedies. The first of his DVD collection had been _Mamma Mia!_ , of course, but had grown to include other classics, like _13 Going on 30_ , _Dirty Dancing_ , and _Ghost_. Yet, for some reason, in spite of all the classics he had seen, all the DVDs he had collected, something about _Definitely, Maybe_ had resonated with him from the very first time he had watched it, sitting in the cold theatre, leaning on his mom’s shoulder and munching on popcorn.

Liam remembers seeing April, her collection of Jane Eyre piled high in her apartment, all different copies, all copies with a history, but none of them quite right. Some had inscriptions, dedications to loved ones, or annotations about lost loves, but none of them had been April’s copy. At least not until Will had found it, giving it back to her like a missing piece falling into a puzzle, allowing fulfillment for _both of them_.

Liam thought that this idea, the idea of people he would never know annotating books that would perhaps never truly be read again, was more romantic than anything he had ever seen, anything he had ever heard. Something about reading the ramblings of people he would never meet, some of them spilling their guts in the margins of a page, was magical. 

Liam had quickly launched into a similar habit, not looking for any particular annotation like April had, but looking to take a glimpse into the lives of others through their writing, _their words_. Liam chose _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ by Stephen Chbosky. Not only was it one of his favourite novels, but having read it at least ten times, he couldn’t imagine a novel that would bring out more raw emotion. 

His very first copy was his own, of course. When he decided that he wanted to start collecting them, he bought an identical copy to his own, copying all of the annotations from his original. It took him ages, but when he was finished, he donated the second copy to a local used bookshop. If he was going to invest himself in the thoughts of others, the least he could do was put his own thoughts out there, no matter how deep, and how dark they might seem to someone else.

Years later, Liam is seventeen, nearly an entire bookshelf filled up with copies of the same novel, each with its own intricacies and hidden lives. He always re-donates the ones that don’t end up revealing much, the ones that are sparse with pencil marks and pen scratches. His favourites occupy the third shelf from the top, the shelf that occupies his eye-level when he stands up. Each one has a sticky note on the spine with a symbol, indicating the highlights of each annotation. Most of them are from strangers, though Corey and Mason both read and annotated their copy for one of his birthdays, that one possessing a little drawing of three hearts on its spine. 

Liam has never really cried when receiving gifts, but Corey and Mason’s annotated copy wasn’t just any other gift, it was the willingness to be open and vulnerable, to admit that sometimes things “get bad again”. Liam had cried, and he’s not ashamed to admit it, and he cried when he read through it too. Corey and Mason had admitted things on those pages that are so much harder to admit out loud, and Liam appreciated that more than anything else.

Today, on Christmas morning, Liam felt the same dull buzzing that holidays had elicited since the day he turned thirteen. He wished that he could harness some of the same blind excitement that he felt towards Christmas as a kid, where he’d run to his parents’ room and jump on the bed until it startled them awake. Instead, it just felt like another day, excitement not as easy, anxiety far more common. If you want cheer, sometimes it’s just easier to fake it until it's really there, and with everything that Liam’s gone through, faking things until they’re real is a lot easier than looking for a source.

He grabs his phone and takes the portable radio from the top of his shelf. He blows off the dust, he doesn’t really move it much, and connects his phone. Obnoxious Christmas music in the style of _Alvin and the Chipmunks_ plays directly from his queue, and he needs to clamp down on his giggling as he follows the scent of cinnamon down the stairs. 

David groans, throwing a couch cushion at Liam as soon as he gets to the landing of the stairs. Liam wobbles, but somehow catches the pillow before it hits the ground, managing to not drop his phone or the speaker. Liam puts just enough force into the throw so it doesn’t hurt, but laughs at the satisfying _smack_ elicited from the pillow hitting David in the side of the head.

David made a dramatic, winded sound on impact and got up to wrap Liam in a hug. 

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

Liam smiles up at David, still wrapped in the hug, “Merry Christmas, old man.”

“Hey!” David pulls away, flicking Liam in the temple. Liam giggles, placing the speaker down on the creaky coffee table, keeping his phone in the pocket of his shorts to prevent David from turning it off. He makes his way into the kitchen, rounding the island to give his mom a kiss on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas, mom,” He grins, looking around the warm kitchen to see the cinnamon buns, eggs, bacon, and sausages that she and David have no-doubt been cooking all morning. She is pouring champagne into three glasses when Liam enters, and she turns around to wrap him in a big hug, wishing him a merry Christmas. 

Liam is about to leave when his mom calls him back, handing him a mimosa topped with frozen strawberries that serve the same purpose as ice. He grins, taking a sip, Jenna shaking her head and uttering a warning: “Liam Dunbar, if you chug that in one sip, you will not be getting another for breakfast.”

Liam quickly pulls the drink away from his mouth, swallowing down what he had already taken. He grins sheepishly, a quarter of the champagne flute remaining. Jenna shakes her head, but the fond, amused look on her face betrays any semblance of strict parenting that she had been trying to portray. Liam knows that she’ll give him a second one, and Jenna knows that he knows, but she’s not in the business of getting her underage son drunk off of mimosas first thing in the morning. If Liam were a little dumber, or maybe if he had actually downed the entire mimosa in one sip, he’d probably tell his mom that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s not the lightweight that she thinks him to be. The message, however, would fall more on the spectrum of self-incrimination than reassurance, and Liam knows enough to keep his mouth shut until after breakfast, at least.

Liam trails behind Jenna, and she hands David his own mimosa, sitting down next to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. Liam sits in the armchair next to the couch, in the perfect position to distribute gifts. Jenna gives him a nod of approval, and he starts handing out wrapped boxes, indicating to David, who sits between him and Jenna, which gifts are for Jenna and which are for David. By the end of it, there are three tall stacks of gifts, one in front of each of them, and they begin unwrapping. Before he starts, Liam runs to the cleaning cabinet to retrieve a recycling bag for the wrapping paper, putting it in the middle of the three of them. 

Liam laughs when he sees the tag on his first gift, looking towards his mom, “Mom, you don’t have to label my gifts as _’From Santa’_ anymore, I’m almost an adult.”

Jenna sends him a wink, “try telling that to David.”

Liam lets out a chuckle, surprised, “seriously, dad?”

David shrugs sheepishly, looking down at the gift that he’s unwrapping, “what? I just wanna keep the magic alive.”

Liam laughs, “fair enough.”

He rips the wrapping paper from the gift and finds a large box with a removable lid. Liam delicately places the box on the floor, dethroning it from its top position on his gift pile. He carefully removes the lid, a stark contrast to the usual excitement that would cause him to rip the paper hastily or toss box lids aside. 

Inside the box, two stacks of books were neatly packaged, needing to be taken out of the box for Liam to view the titles. Most of them are ones that he had been excited to read, some new releases, others being ones that he was late to the jump on. In one stack: _Leah on the Offbeat_ , _Strange the Dreamer_ , _All the Light We Cannot See_ , and _The Song of Achilles_. In the other stack: _If We Were Villains_ , _the Secret History_ , _Testament of Youth_ , and a used, hardcover version of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_. A giddy, helpless smile finds its way to Liam’s face, and he cannot fight the instinct of opening the book straight to the dedication page that simply states _”To my family"_ to see the personal dedication that might have been written into it.

**_To Theo,_ **

**_I might not have long, but I promise I will live with you forever. I love you more than words, baby brother._ **

**_-love Tara_ **

Liam feels a familiar anticipation bloom in the pit of his chest, the personal dedication pulling him in like an epigraph, his interest immediately piqued. He runs a single finger over the words, written in black pen and mildly smudged, neat, cursive letters. He can feel the indentation in the page from the force of the pen and realizes that the words were retraced. Underneath, pencil marks poke out, nearly as dark as the pen. The pencil marks were dark, the handwriting a medium size, slightly larger than the handwriting of whoever had traced over it. 

Liam had done some reading on graphology, he thought it could give him a better understanding of what people may have felt at the time that they read their copy. It didn’t really work, graphology has never been the best indicator of mood or emotion, and the state of each page was far more indicative. Graphology was, however, a pretty good indicator of personality. The penciled words were words of someone confident, someone who never said anything unless they were completely certain, someone who would be unafraid to speak up for themselves if they had to. Whoever had traced over the words was nearly a polar opposite, the letters light, and never quite big enough to cover the pencil. The second person, Liam thinks, is probably quieter, more reserved. 

Liam is inclined to believe that the first person, the one who had written with the pencil, was Tara, given that she had signed her name. Would that make the second person Theo? Or could someone else have taken the time to carefully trace the letters, although slightly small.

Jenna clears her throat, and Liam realizes that he had been staring at the dedication page of the novel for longer than he had thought, longer than he was meant to. He lets out a breathless laugh, his skin crawling with the familiar need to read, not even the words, by now he could quote any page in the book without even thinking about it, but to read about the life that possessed this copy. 

“Sorry, you know how I get sometimes,” Liam laughs again, closing the novel and putting it back with the other books in the box.

“It’s alright, honey,” Jenna gives an understanding smile, “but you’ll have all night to read it, David and I will stay out of your way.”

Liam laughs, shaking his head, “it’s just kind of addicting, but yeah, I’ll start it later.”

Jenna squints, nodding her head skeptically, but eventually, the three of them continue with their gift opening. Liam appreciates his other gifts, he has always been grateful for the things that his parents gave him, even when his mom had broken up with his biological father and couldn’t afford much. His appreciation wasn’t enough to curb his enthusiasm, and he felt the buzz the entire time that they opened gifts, the entire time that they ate breakfast. 

After breakfast, Jenna notified Liam that they wouldn’t be leaving until 3:30 to have dinner with their family, excusing him to take his gifts to his room and start reading, if he wanted to. Giddy, Liam runs up the stairs, taking two trips to bring all of his things to his room. 

The books lay on his bed, neat and tidy in their stack, the neatness quickly ruined as Liam plops onto his bed next to them. The copy of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ is teasing, beckoning him to open its pages and read everything he could find from the mystery boy who had once owned the book.

He eyed the book, feeling it call to him with the constant itching under his skin, the racing of his mind. He knew that if he started it now, there’s no way he would have enough time to really take everything in, let alone finish it. With the mere 4 hours between now and when he would have to leave, it would be impossible for him to really enjoy it all. Self-control always felt like it was on a higher branch, just out of reach for Liam, but so close that his fingers could graze it.

He’ll wait until later.

✒✒✒✒

Dinner feels like it drags on too long, and Liam feels ashamed that the entire time that they eat he’s wishing that he could be at home, reading. His younger cousins ask him to play hide and seek with them, he knew they would, but he can’t stop wondering who Theo is, what his story is. Hide and seek has been a yearly tradition since he was a kid himself. He and his cousins Becca, Conrad, and Julia used to make it an extreme sport. He once got stuck in the attic after managing to worm his way up there and ended up screaming for help until the seeker had found him and got their parents. Now that they were older, the older cousins would play seeker while the younger ones would hide, so at least he didn’t have to seek all on his own.

When it was time to leave, he zipped around, giving everyone hugs and kisses to wish them goodbye, zipping to Jenna’s car with containers of leftovers in his hands. Jenna had laughed, explaining to her mother, sister, and brother that Liam was excited to read a new book he had received. His aunt, Cayla, had always been kind of fascinated with Liam’s collection, and she was always understanding of it. 

The families all said goodbye, Jenna laughing when Cayla encouraged her to hurry up so Liam could get back home to read. She waited for David to finish up his goodbyes, and they were out the door, though not fast enough in Liam’s opinion. 

He absolutely sprints up the stairs, nearly tripping at the top, and hurries into his room so quickly that he barely has time to close his door. He ignores David and Jenna’s teasing in favour of connecting his phone to the speaker, playing the soundtrack from the film to set the mood. 

He opens the novel, grabbing blindly on the shelf above his bed for the sticky notes and pen that he uses for annotating. The pen starts on the very first page, the same, timid handwriting that traced over Tara’s, this time in its own personal font. 

Theo- Liam thinks he must be the annotator- gets right into spilling his emotions. It’s the fastest that Liam’s seen someone begin annotation. Even though most people don’t intend to show anyone else the thoughts they write down on the pages, Liam’s found that people sometimes have trouble being honest with themselves, trouble opening up until a quarter, or even mid-way through the book. 

Theo starts writing right away, written words in the margins next to Charlie’s words, Charlie’s words that disclose his need for someone who’s willing to listen, someone who _understands_.

_**You listened, and I think you understood me too, even if some of the things I said didn’t make sense. Even if I could be hysterical and angry and sad.** _

_**I think that sometimes I’m an enigma when I don’t mean to be. But I think that if I keep going this way then one day I could just leave and nobody would notice. I’d pack my bags, I’d chase a train, and maybe one day I’d finally see you again, even if it’s a long time from now.** _

Liam responds with his own annotation, scribbling it down on a yellow sticky note, something akin to confusion, pity.

The annotations just get longer from there. Theo mentions his own loneliness during the homecoming scene, he talks about how he doesn’t think he’ll ever go to a homecoming. He mentions his sister, Tara, a lot. She seems cool, but the way that Theo talks about her is dark and gloomy, like she’s no longer around anymore. Liam is compelled to believe that the ‘you’ that Theo keeps referring to must be Tara, considering everything. Liam’s notes start to exceed their usual maximum, not only in terms of his sticky notes, but also in terms of the notebook that he’s always used to take notes in about the annotations. Sometimes, when he reads his own notes back, it’s like one of those collections of fairy tales that his mom used to read him, except all of these stories are real and human. Something tangible.

Time slips away, Liam starts noticing things like pages that have been crumpled like someone had held them hard, dried circles that indicated to Liam that Theo had cried when he read it. Theo talks about how sometimes he gets bad again, sometimes he considers doing things he shouldn’t. He says that his parents will never understand, that they haven’t bothered since Tara had gone. The ways in which Theo relates to Charlie are devastating, but even more devastating are the ways in which he doesn’t. From the sounds of it, Theo doesn’t have friends, he doesn’t have a family that cares, that wants to make sure he’ll never get bad again. 

Liam is drawn to Theo, the mystery writer, far more than he had ever been drawn to any other annotator from any of his other copies. Not only is Theo lonely, but the short jokes he sometimes writes during the funnier scenes, the facts that he inputs about the books that Charlie reads, shows that he is so much more than someone who is alone. Theo is brilliant, and funny, and deserving of more than he seems to have. 

Liam reads late into the night, and then early into the morning. Before he even realizes it, he’s closing the book, feeling book hangover akin to the very first time that he had ever read the novel, the sun peeking out between his curtains. He has seven pages of notes, having used both the back, and the front of each sheet, and he’s used three packs of sticky notes. It’s early, but he doesn’t even process it. He can’t process anything but Theo, the mysterious boy whose life Liam now knows far more about. It’s like a game of telephone being played through one copy of this one book. A game of telephone that Liam is practically itching to follow, itching to find Theo, no matter what it takes.

✒✒✒✒

Mason was not impressed whatsoever at receiving a call at four in the morning on the day after Christmas. He woke up to the vibration of his phone on the mattress, always keeping his phone on silent while he slept. Corey groaned next to him, shifting to cuddle closer to his boyfriend.

Corey cracks one eye open, squinting in the dark room, “don’t answer it.”

Mason groans, reading the caller ID and wincing at the phone’s brightness. “It’s Liam, it might be an emergency.”

“We both know that it’s probably not,” Corey gives a sleepy giggle, closing his eyes again, “but I also know you’re gonna answer it anyways.”

Mason just gives a wry look, though Corey doesn’t see it, and slides to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Mason this is going to sound crazy, but I need your help. Like I really need your help.” Liam’s voice is rushed, waves of anxiety rolling off of it.

“With what? Are you okay? Did you have an episode?” Mason untangles himself from Corey, who’s fallen back asleep, sitting up straight.

“I’m alright, no episodes, totally okay. I got another copy from my parents for Christmas and the boy who annotated it is so lonely, but he’s so smart too and I just _need_ to find him. I think if I don’t then-”

Mason sighs, Liam going quiet. “Liam, I’ll help you, but can I get, like, six more hours of sleep first?” Mason pulls the phone away to check the time, “You should get some sleep too, seriously. You won’t have any use finding him without any sleep.”

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay. Okay, I’ll sleep.” 

Mason can practically see the frantic nodding as if Liam’s trying to convince himself of what he’s saying. “Put on _Troy_ or something, go to sleep, bro.”

“I’ll try.” The answer is more honest this time, and Mason knows that Liam will.

“Alright, I’ll call you when I wake up. Goodnight, Liam.”

✒✒✒✒

Liam tried to sleep, he promised Mason that he would and he tries not to lie to Mason when he can help it. He tossed and turned. He put on _Troy_ , then he put on _300_ , then he put on _Braveheart_. He even put on some boring nature documentary when all of them were finished, just in the hopes that it would bore him to sleep. It didn’t, and three episodes into the documentary it was noon.

He rolled out of bed, feeling tired, thoughts racing on the topic of Theo, _Theo, Theo._ He gets dressed, tripping over himself, pulling on socks and his shoes, running down to the kitchen to get coffee. 

Jenna stops him in the doorway, asking him where he was heading and why he was in such a rush, and he tries to condense his story into thirty seconds, barely making sense. His rambling reminds him that just upstairs are the notes and the novel, and he had forgotten to pack them. He tries to elaborate further, but Jenna just lets him go and Liam dashes up the stairs, stuffing everything into a backpack, running right back down and out the door. 

He practically runs to Mason’s house, sweating and panting while he awaits the opening of the door. He could hear the pages crumpling in his bag the whole way here, he could feel the cover of the book thump against his back whenever he sped up. The crumpled pages might be important, he thinks, they could hold the key to finding Theo for all he knows.

“Hey, Liam,” Mason speaks in a tone of mock-exhaustion, the mischievous twinkle in his eye giving it away. The twinkle is always present when the pair are together, trouble always just over the horizon. Liam’s twinkle is more frantic, more feral, and usually got them into more trouble.

“Hey!” Liam rushes past Mason, entering the house and toeing off his shoes. After over ten years of friendship, Liam and Mason both felt a familiar sense of comfortability in each other’s homes considering they’re practically brothers. The comfortability is what encourages Liam to dash up the stairs, Mason barely following along, bursting right into Mason’s bedroom.

“Hey, Corey,” Liam acknowledges the other boy, sitting in a hanging chair and playing animal crossing, but doesn’t hear Corey’s response. He’s too busy tipping his backpack upside down, creating a tsunami of sticky notes, loose pages, and notebooks. Liam gently pulls the book from the bottom, delicate so no sticky notes will dislodge. 

Mason is in his room by the time Liam’s started organizing the sheets, in a huge shape around himself that seems organized to him. It appears like a mass of random papers to Mason and Corey, who are both intently staring at Liam due to the commotion he caused upon his arrival. 

Mason looks at Corey, mouthing _he didn’t sleep_ , Corey’s face scrunches, his brows furrowing and Mason reiterates, _of course he didn’t sleep_. Corey sighs, visibly deflated and equal parts worried, calmly approaching Liam the same way that one would approach a rabid animal or a stray cat. He sits down just as slowly, as if a loud noise would startle Liam out of some sort of daze.

“Hey, Li,” Corey’s words are soft, nearly timid, and slow. Liam continues to shuffle wordlessly through the pages, trying to decipher his handwriting and take note of what he might have to translate for Corey, or even what he might have to translate for Mason. Some notes barely even resemble words, just scribbles that Liam’s brain somehow understands.

Corey puts his hands on the top page of the stack in front of Liam, still soft, but firm enough to make a _**thump**_ , and Liam finally looks up, eyes wild and distorted by bags. “Hey, Liam. What’s going on?”

Liam breathes in and takes in the wounded, pitying look in Corey’s eyes. He swings his head up to see a similar expression on Mason’s, but with a stricter underlying tone. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam runs a hand through his hair, scratching it in an attempt to self-soothe. When it doesn’t work, he brings his hand down to wring both hands together. “I can explain.”

Mason sits down slowly, though less cautiously than Corey had, raising his eyebrows patiently, wordlessly allowing Liam to go on.

“So I got this new copy for Christmas, right?” Corey and Mason both nod, and Corey grabs the novel from Liam when it is offered to them. “I was reading it, and I just felt like I needed to find him. I’ve never felt like this before, but he’s different. The red stickies are notes that I think say actual facts about him, like his age or whatever.”

Corey nods, flipping through the pages to read the first few red sticky notes that Liam had written on throughout the novel. The red stickies are sparing, especially when they are compared to the yellow, green, and blue ones. Liam’s never put red sticky notes in any of the other copies, but Corey knows enough about the other colours to gain some perspective. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. We’ll help you find him.”

Liam absolutely beams, the smile serving as a stark contrast to the deep bags under his eyes. Liam begins to flip each sheet around so Corey and Mason can see them better. Explaining his system, Liam shows them how every red sticky has a number, and every number corresponds with a note that Liam has written on the pages. Mason pulls down his laptop from atop his desk, and together, the three of them create a spreadsheet that categorizes the information into a more organized system, prioritizing them based on how many details have been disclosed.

Sometime between calling his parents to find out which bookshop they had purchased the book from and deciding on a name for the spreadsheet, Corey’s hand had started wandering. He played it off as if the movement had been absent-minded, as if he needed something to fidget with while he flipped through the novel, and for his credit, it worked. Liam didn’t even notice that Corey’s hand had wandered closer, and he barely even noticed that Corey’s fingers were scratching in his hair. Before he could realize anything at all, he was falling asleep in Mason’s lap, Corey still carding soft fingers through his hair.

✒✒✒✒

Corey and Mason are cuddled up together on a single beanbag chair, quietly giggling and whispering to each other, the dopey grins on both of their faces indicating that they have probably been paying more attention to each other than they were the film.

From the soundtrack, Liam’s pretty sure that they’re watching _Paper Towns_ , but his tired brain has barely even begun to function at full-capacity, leading him to blink owlishly around the room. It’s dark, but the sun always sets earlier this deep into the winter. It could be five o’clock, or it could be night. _Did he sleep through an entire day? Shouldn’t he be searching?_

“Hey, Liam. How are we doing?” Corey’s smile is soft and kind, and Liam is suddenly confused as to how he ended up in Mason’s bed when he had fallen asleep on the carpeted floor. 

“‘M fine,” Liam’s voice is hoarse and scratchy, and he cringes internally at his own whiney tone.

“It’s only 5:30,” Mason can almost read Liam’s mind by now, “Corey asked me to put you in the bed after you fell asleep. He’s too nice, I would’ve let you wake up with a kink in your neck.”

Liam laughs, sitting up to stretch, searching for his phone. He notices that the papers had been restacked, placed neatly in the notebook, the novel stacked on top. “What happened?”

“I think we found your guy,” Mason’s tone is triumphant, and he tosses Liam his own phone. _’Car Crash Victim Dies from Her Injuries Three Weeks After Accident’_ , a grim headline from the local paper, the date only four years ago. 

“Is he dead?” Liam panics, unsure of what message he was meant to take away from the article. He suddenly feels much more awake, believing it to be a better state to receive bad news.

“No,” Mason is less chipper, his smile turning to a slight frown, “his sister is, though.”

Liam mirrors Mason’s expression, though his frown is much deeper, and worry lines appear asymmetrically along his forehead. Theo had sounded like he was writing to someone who had disappeared, a ghost, and maybe he really was. Pencil, Liam learned the hard way, could fade away so easily, just disappearing from where it had once been written. Pen was forever. 

“The article wasn’t easy to find, but we thought that starting with the search terms ‘Tara’ and ‘Theo’ would work best. That article must’ve been on the twentieth page of search results. It didn’t even come up when we typed in ‘Tara’, ‘Theo’, and ‘Beacon Hills’ together.” Mason points towards his laptop, Liam barely able to make out the newly added words in the spreadsheet. 

Corey clears his throat, squirming in Mason’s lap to more suitably face Liam. 

“Him and his sister were hit by a drunk driver. She got shrapnel in her heart and they couldn’t get a donor in time,” Corey is solemn, looking at Liam with soft eyes. 

“Oh.” 

“She was eighteen at the time,” Mason takes a red sticky note from the pile, holding it up for Liam, “he was fourteen, it matches with your notes. He owned the book freshman year of high school.”

Liam nods, unconsciously rocking back and forth on the bed, anxiously picking at his fingernails. He throws Mason’s phone back to him, Corey gracefully catching it without even making an effort.

“The article is from four years ago, so he’s only a year older than us.”

Liam’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open while he takes it in. The evidence had been presented to him, it had been right in front of him, but he hadn’t pieced it all together. Mason and Corey exchanged looks with each other before Mason gently helped Corey to the floor, rolling out of the beanbag when it was safe to do so. He walks over to his desk, refreshing the newly blackened screen of his laptop. He sits down next to Liam on the bed, showing the new section of the spreadsheet: _**Evidence + Proof**_.

The car crash is the first fragment of evidence, Mason and Corey have written a summary of the article and what pieces of it had been important. There are some other bits and pieces that have been added in, ones that Liam couldn’t quite decipher when the laptop had been so far away. 

“We went to the library to check out some yearbooks, we were gone for an hour,” Mason scrolls down, using the pointer from his mouse to highlight several blocks of text within the same section of the spreadsheet. “He was in the yearbook in the ninth grade, the tenth, and the eleventh, but his name isn’t even in it the year that he would have graduated. There’s not a single mention of him.” 

Liam doesn’t seem deterred, he gets up to grab the novel from the stack, gripping it in his hands with all his strength before holding it to his chest. He closes his eyes tight, feeling the quick beating of his heart, the unceasing anxiety that’s making a pit in his chest. When his heart slows, and his hands are nearly done their shaking, he looks back at Mason. “I have to find him. I don’t know why, but I do. I’ll go to the bookstore to see if they know anything.”

“That’s a good idea,” Corey smiles, ever the optimist. “Do you want to see what he looks like? Or, what he _looked_ like, I guess?”

Liam shakes his head before Corey has even finished asking the question. He’s holding the novel, now outstretched in front of him, eyeing all of the sticky notes that aren’t red, all of the sticky notes that give some sort of semblance of Theo’s thoughts, his feelings, _his personality_. 

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” Mason stands, closing the laptop and placing it back on his desk, “you don’t want to know what he looks like?”

Liam turns bright red, blushing up to his ears. The book is against his chest again and he’s burrowing his face into his arms, the tip of his nose touching the pages. His next words are mumbled, a stage of shyness that he barely ever reaches, “I don’t care.”

“Wait,” Corey’s mischievous grins are always so much worse than Mason’s. Mason was usually busting Liam’s balls, it was just their dynamic, there was barely ever an ounce of slack cut between the two of them, but it worked. Corey was different, always sweet and patient, understanding and optimistic, but that made his mischief a different breed altogether. Corey’s brand of mischief involved embarrassment, prodding, and relentless, clever teasing. “Do you have a crush on Mr. Mystery?”

Liam goes still, a sound would give him away, a movement would distinctly disclose the slump in his posture. What he can’t help is the darker shade his face takes, the sudden gaping expression on his face. 

Corey and Mason burst out laughing, Corey quickly sobering while Mason ends up crouched over, holding his stomach while bursts of hysterical giggles leave him. 

“I mean,” Corey smirks, sending a sly wink in Liam’s direction, “I’ve seen him, so I get it, but you’re crushing on this guy just from words?”

Liam shrugs, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thump that he has been trying to control for the entire day, “they’re good words.”

“Oh my god,” Corey gapes, “that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

Liam wordlessly walks towards Mason’s bed, jumping face down with a thump. This time, once his face is sufficiently stuffed into the pillow, he groans, Mason sure that his eyes are probably rolling to the back of his head. Another muffled groan before he says barely made-out words: “please kill me.”

Mason is sent into another fit of laughter, made worse by the tomato shade on the back of Liam’s neck and the tips of his ears. Liam curls up more, practically wrapped around the book, and Corey stands up, once again tiptoeing over to Liam.

He pokes Liam in the ribs, and Liam flops onto his back to defend himself, giving Corey what he wanted. Once Corey can see Liam’s face, bright red and wide-eyed, he smiles the same smile that he always offers. 

“If this is important, we’ll help you find him, Liam.”

✒✒✒✒

Three weeks later, Liam barely gets three hours of sleep each night. Every waking hour, when he’s not doing schoolwork, he’s looking for Theo. The three of them managed to talk to the owner of the bookshop. Theo and Tara had apparently been regulars there, but Theo hadn’t been back in years, aligning with his mysterious disappearance after junior year.

His last name was Raeken, the yearbook told them that much, but his family wasn’t in the phonebook, and he couldn’t find any evidence of Raekens anywhere. 

Mason and Corey started worrying after the first week, but now, the two of them had ganged up to kidnap Liam each weekend to ensure that he’d sleep. Jenna was more than okay with it, having noticed Liam’s sleeplessness too. The two of them did everything they could, they searched phonebooks, they looked at Beacon Hills directories, and they searched every possible social media app to see if they could find even a glimpse of Theo. Nothing turned up, but on days that Liam ended up hunched over on Mason’s floor, snorings softly and drooling onto a notebook, the two of them continued their search, just so Liam could feel satisfied that he’s doing everything he can.

David and Jenna tried everything when they noticed his new hobby, they’d even asked Liam if he wanted to start seeing Debby, his therapist again. Liam disagreed, he didn’t feel angry, though even he was able to recognize that he had grown obsessive towards the book, possessive towards Theo. It doesn’t make sense. How could Theo just disappear at seventeen? Did anyone go looking?

Liam’s last straw breaks suddenly, after a night of no sleep spent illuminated by the bright screen of his laptop, hunched over and coffee-filled. He calls Stiles, and when he doesn’t pick up the first time, he calls again, _and again_. When the dial tone and the sound of Stiles’ answering machine started something hot in his veins, he hung up, taking deep breaths through his nose. 

He scrolls up in his contacts, only minutely, and listens to the familiar dial tone ring for the number that he had called. He hopes for more luck this time around, not knowing what he might do if he can’t get ahold of someone who could help. 

“Liam?” 

“Hi, Scott. It’s an emergency, I can’t get Stiles,” Liam rambles, just coherent enough for Scott to understand.

There’s the sound of shuffling, a sleepy voice that doesn’t belong to Scott begging him to come back to bed. Liam waits, shaking with anticipation and nervous energy, waiting while Scott tells Isaac that he’ll be back soon.

“Liam?” Scott asks when he’s come back to his phone, “how about I call Stiles? If he picks up I’ll get him to call you, if not I’ll call you back. Alright, Li?”

Liam’s voice shakes, “yeah, sure. Thanks, Scott.”

“No problem, buddy,” The warmth radiating from Scott despite the absurd hour clamps down on some of the nervousness in Liam’s chest, “hopefully Stiles will be calling you soon, alright?”

“Alright,” Liam nods even though it isn’t visible, “thank you. G’night.”

“Goodnight, Li.”

Never had another annotator made him as interested as Theo did, but a few had come close. 

Tucker was the first one, he seemed older, he annotated in dark, messy scroll. Tucker told stories about his granddaughter, who had just turned sixteen, and how close the two of them are. He read the book for his granddaughter, it was her favourite, apparently, and he would do anything if his granddaughter recommended it. Tucker got emotional more than once, he talked of his own teenage years in the 1960s, when times were much different, when mental health and abuse weren’t okay to talk about. Tucker was older, but even he could relate to Charlie, in some way or another.

Elise and Jodie were the second and third, also the last that had piqued Liam’s curiosity to such an extent. The first page had a message: _”If you’re reading this, you are seen. Just make sure that it’s the right person seeing you”_. From the rest of the notes, Liam learned to recognize the handwriting as Jodie’s. The two seemed to be in a romantic relationship, usually annotating right next to each other, commenting on things that reminded them of each other or their relationship. Three-quarters of the way through the book, Elise’s handwriting had grown sparse. By the end, it was just Jodie’s, a final, parting message: _”I hope things don’t ever get bad again.”_

Yellow, green, blue. Those were the sticky notes that really mattered to Liam. 

The yellow ones were direct responses to annotations, anything that elicited an emotion in him that made him want to respond to Theo, whether it be comforting, or relatable, or painful. Everything that he wanted to say to Theo. The yellow ones were on nearly every page that had an annotation. 

The green sticky notes were saved for jokes or anything that made Liam laugh, no matter how grim. Theo had a fairly dry, dark sense of humour, and it took Liam a moment to adjust, but he had grown to appreciate the comic relief. The blue sticky notes were saved for facts. Theo had a habit of relating the novel to other ones he had read, mostly classics, and fun facts were littered between the margins. They were never uninteresting, and never too far off-topic. Liam had even pulled some of the novels out that Theo mentioned, deciding that maybe now is the time to get into classics.

Liam realizes he had been staring at nothing, blankly looking at his wall, and the vibration of his phone on his leg alerts him enough to pull him from his daze. 

“Stiles?”

Stiles laughs, sounding tired, “Hey, Liam. Whatcha need?”

“I need your help finding someone.”

Stiles laughs again, and Liam hears someone groan in the background. “I was waiting for the day that you would finally want to search for someone from one of the books. I’m surprised it took you this long. Tell me about them.”

“His name is Theo. He got into a car accident with his sister four years ago and his sister passed away. He was a year younger than you and Scott, he went to BHHH until-” Liam’s mouth snaps shut when he hears Stiles talking, suddenly listening intently.

“You’re on speakerphone,” Stiles explains, “Derek said ‘Theo, who?’”

“Theo Raeken.” Liam hears a thump, Stiles groans and Liam assumes that he’s fallen over, Derek muttering an apology before his voice is much closer.

“I know him,” Derek’s voice is husky from sleep, “and I know where he is, too.”

“Where are you guys? I can be there in fifteen minutes.” 

Derek laughs, “we’re are my place. Need a ride?”

“It’s alright, I’ll take my mom’s car.”

“No!” Stiles yells, wrestling the phone from Derek, “I can tell you haven’t slept, we’ll pick you up.”

Liam sighs, hunching onto the bed, “fine, hurry up.”

Half an hour later, he wakes up to his phone ringing and a spot of drool where his face had been. He rubs his eyes and then uses the back of his hand to wipe the drool from his mouth, unlocking the phone without looking at it. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Li. We’re outside.”

Liam pulls the phone away to read Stiles’ caller ID, remembering that he was meant to go with them. “Okay, ‘m coming.”

He tiptoes down the steps, wincing every time he hears a loud creak. When he gets to the bottom, he drags his socked feet along the hardwood to avoid waking Jenna or David, the former being a very light sleeper. Shoes would make too much noise, and it is three in the morning, so nobody will be awake to see the atrocious combination of socks with sandals that he decides on. He grabs his house key and opens the door as quietly as possible, slowly closing it with the same hesitation and carefulness. Once he has locked the door, he can make all the noise that he wants, and he runs to Derek’s running car, jumping in and slamming the door behind him. 

He tosses his backpack in the seat next to him, careful that nothing inside gets crumpled, his laptop accompanying the usual books and papers that disclose his hunt for the mystery boy. The yearbooks are in there too, but he still has yet to steal a glance, as if it would be a betrayal of some sort. 

“Hey, guys.” Liam’s greeting is just a nicety, and Stiles knows him well enough to be able to tell, giving a quick wave before motioning in Derek’s direction.

“The kid that you want to find lives with Isaac,” Derek pivots in the passenger seat so he has a better view of Liam, who is practically bouncing. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I have time.”

Derek laughs at the eagerness, “alright, well, in that case, I’ll tell it to you.”

✒✒✒✒

_Say Anything_ might be one of Liam’s favourite rom-coms. _Ever_. He has adored it since the very first time he had watched it, he even thought that it was a John Hughes movie the first time because of its sheer perfection. He couldn’t say for certain where it ranked, there are so many tough contenders, but he definitely knows that he adores it.

Most people wouldn’t reference _Say Anything_ in the context of strangers, but Liam isn’t most people. What Liam _**is**_ is someone holding a portable speaker and blasting _Could it be Another Change_ straight from the soundtrack of _The Perks of being a Wallflower_ right outside the door of Theo, someone he hasn’t even met yet. Liam might also be a little crazy too. 

The door opens, and Liam isn’t sure whether he should expect Isaac or Theo, scared of every possible outcome as his brain takes on legs of its own. Messy, floppy brown hair is the first thing that he sees before his eyes lock on the hypnotizing green ones. He can’t find it in him to look away, but he can see that the stranger’s face is sharp edges and lines, furrowed eyebrows and a single freckle. 

“Hello?”

Liam realizes then that his jaw had dropped, his teeth making a harsh, distinct clacking sound when he closes his mouth. His cheeks flush, light pink and hot, and he fumbles to press the ‘off’ button on the speaker.

“Hey- uh, hi. I’m Liam.”

“Hi, Liam?” The stranger still looks confused, and Liam’s still not sure if it’s Theo. He never did look at the yearbook photos, even when Derek advised him that he should, even when his mom grounded him for sneaking out and the yearbooks were all that he had to hold onto until it was over. 

“Are you Theo?” Liam blurts.

“I am him.” 

“It’s really,” Liam stares at him, his beautiful green eyes, the singular freckle, the sharp jawline, and the pretty pink lips, “nice to meet you.”

“Are you looking for me or Isaac?” Theo moves as if he is going to go back inside, and Liam reaches out to grab his wrist. Theo stares at Liam like he had grown a new head.

“I’m here for you.” His fingertips start to tingle, and he realizes that he is still holding on, “I’m sorry.”

Theo’s eyebrows are raised, but his lips form a smug, confusing smirk, and the fluttering in Liam’s chest is back, like he’s reading Theo’s words for the first time again.

“I can explain.” Liam flings his backpack from his back to the floor, practically tearing it open when his shaking hands can’t manage to grip the zipper. He pulls out a copy of _The Perks of being a Wallflower_ , holding it up in front of him like it’s his item for show-and-tell.

Theo’s face goes pale, his eyes wide, and he’s shaking his head, backing up until his back hits the doorframe of the apartment, the door still open. He reaches for the handle, and looks quickly up at Liam, like a deer in the headlights. “No, I- I’m sorry.”

The door is closed in Liam’s face.

✒✒✒✒

Liam left the copy of the book at the door, his phone number already written on the note inside of it, and he texts Isaac begging for him to retrieve it. Theo had believed the copy to be his own, to hold the pain and tragedy and memories that all happened when he read it, but it wasn’t. The copy was Liam’s, his original copy, the first one that he had ever purchased, the same one that he had no extra copy of. That copy held Liam within its pages, the same way that Theo’s held him.

Liam didn’t hear anything back, just complete radio silence. He still had trouble sleeping, but less so now that he knew that Theo was within reach and around people that loved him. Liam went from three hours a night to six, and he would often dream of the captivating green eyes, in hopes that Theo had finally learned his self-worth after all these years. 

Liam would still go to school, and still talk to his friends. He still went to Mason’s once a week, though they would play video games instead of search for Theo. He had called Mason crying after everything had happened, completely torn by his month-long search and the boy who didn’t want to be known, at least not by Liam.

Liam still zones out, utter distraction still playing as a hindrance in his daily life. He daydreamed endlessly about getting a call or a text, maybe even a DM, with the sender being Theo. 

Until one day it wasn’t a daydream.

It’s one of those nights that he’s staying at Mason’s. The three of them are watching _The Notebook_ , and it’s not a personal favourite of Liam’s, but he’s always been able to see why people like it so much. 

**Unknown: I read TPOBAW right after my sister died.**

**Unknown: It was her favourite, she gave it to me for my birthday a week before she died.**

**Unknown: I didn’t want to see what I wrote back then.**

Liam is nodding like an idiot, providing reassurance to someone that can’t even see his face. He types out five different messages, deleting every single one, needing the perfect words so he doesn’t jeopardize this. Theo beats him to it.

**Unknown: I thought you were holding my copy, and it scared me.**

**Unknown: Isaac told me you were looking for me for a while.**

Liam flushes, once again nodding at his screen, finally typing back a response.

**Liam: I was looking for you for a whole month**

Liam gasps after pressing send, realizing his mistake.

**Liam: but like, not in a stalker kind of way, I swear!**

Theo sends back a simple ‘lol’ and Liam grins like an idiot, practically beaming down at the text conversation on his phone. 

“Dude, why the hell are you making all of those weird faces at your phone?” Mason is staring at Liam with a look of astonishment and confusion, eyebrows drawn together and mouth agape.

“No reason.” 

Liam’s answer is too quick, and Mason jumps up to grab the phone from Liam’s hands. Liam pulls away and gets up when Mason rises from his position cuddling Corey. Liam runs, trying to reach the door, but mason grabs him by the ankle, climbing him to pin him to the floor, easily grabbing the phone. 

“No way,” Mason’s jaw drops, his eyes glued to the phone, “no way!”

Corey is barely paying attention when Liam’s phone is being hurled at him, and he barely saves it from dropping to the floor. 

“You’re texting Theo?” Corey asks, dumbfounded, “like, _the_ Theo?”

Liam nods, not knowing where to look while Mason rolls off of him, scared that his eyes will give him away.

“Liam, you gotta ask him out.”

“Ask him out? No way!” Liam shakes his head, walking over to the bed.

“You have to! And look,” Corey turns the phone, “he read your copy!”

“He what?” Liam grabs the phone, bringing it up to his face.

**Theo: It’s cool. A little crazy that you managed to find me, though.**

**Theo: I read the copy that you gave me, and the note, too.**

Liam panics for a response.

**Liam: really?**

**Liam: what’d you think?**

Liam watches as the familiar bubbles spring up, watching as they continuously rise and fall, almost rhythmically.

**Theo: I never really intended for anyone to read what I wrote in my copy, so I think it’s really brave that you would let me read yours.**

Liam feels the heat rise to his cheeks and rubs at them futilely, like that would stop them from giving him away. He can hear that the movie is still on, but he’s also aware that all of Mason and Corey’s attention are on him, even if they had settled back into each other.

**Theo: Would you want to meet up some time?**

**Liam: like a date?**

**Theo: If you’d like that.**

Liam audibly gasps, scrambling for one of Mason’s pillows. Mason throws one in his direction, and Liam catches it, bringing it right down to his lap. His grin is practically splitting his face in two, practically lighting up the room, and he hugs the pillow, screaming into it. He screams and pumps his fist, Mason taking the phone from his lap to read the conversation. The two of them exchange looks before Corey grins in Liam’s direction, reaching out to rub a comforting hand up and down Liam’s back. Mason decides to respond on his best friend’s behalf. 

**Liam: i would definitely like that**

When Liam comes up for air, his face is bright red and carefree, a goofy smile plastered on his face. The smile stays there for the rest of the night.

✒✒✒✒

Liam spends four entire hours choosing an outfit for the date. It’s gonna be at a cute, locally-owned restaurant in town. Theo lives a town over, just outside of Beacon Hills, but the drive is short, no longer than twenty minutes.

While Liam was stressing over outfits and subjects of conversation with Mason and Corey on a facetime call, Theo was not doing any better.

While Liam had been deeply affected by everything that Theo had to say, Theo had felt much the same. Liam’s comments were so open and vulnerable, so brutal and relatable, and Theo felt drawn in, like he needed to know more. 

Theo had barely even remembered what the novel was about, just the deep cuts and the pain that it had caused him when he read it. He was again captivated by the story of Charlie, but now he was faced with the story of Liam, too. Liam talked about his parents, and what he remembered of his mother’s relationship with his biological father. He talked about how his equivalent of “getting bad again” happened in the form of his episodes, where he’d feel massive amounts of rage without knowing why, coming to with feelings of shame and regret. 

Liam had seen into Theo’s life, and now he has made it mutual, a bond beginning from the sheer vulnerability and honesty. 

Theo worried over his outfit with Isaac, though there was no one like Corey around to tell Isaac to lay off. Theo got the full brunt of Isaac’s teasing with no mediator around, and his face had been red for hours. Isaac listened to everything Theo told him about what Liam had written, but that didn’t mean he had to be quiet about it.

Theo finally rushes from his room at a quarter to seven, looking clean and collected in stark contrast to his previous dishevelment. He flips Isaac off when he tries to make another dumb comment and grabs his keys, shutting the front door behind him.

Liam, at his own house, is letting his mom fuss over his hair and his shirt, the one term he had made with her in return for him borrowing her car. Jenna uses her fingers to smooth back loose hairs and overanalyzes every wrinkle in his clothes before finally letting him go, and Liam’s gone before they can even say goodbye.

Liam gets there first since he lives so much closer, even though they weren’t meant to meet until 7:30. He goes inside and fidgets at a table for two, continuously alternating between scratching his wrists and undoing and redoing the buttons on his sleeves. His mouth is dry, so, so dry, but he doesn’t want to take the risk of having to pee while waiting for Theo. A nervous habit that he picked up years ago was aimless humming, never any particular tune or rhythm. It gets him weird looks now, other restaurant-goers looking in his direction, quirked eyebrows or glares. He stops when he notices them and goes, instead, to rearranging his cutlery. 

There’s no bell on the door like most places, nor a greeter at the front, but the gust of wind forced into the small restaurant by the opening door is enough to catch Liam’s attention as a cold chill runs down his spine. Theo is poking his head around, brows furrowed in a confused way that Liam can’t help but find incredibly endearing. He raises one of his hands, his movement catching Theo’s eye. The wrinkle between his eyebrows soothes as his face morphs into a grin, waving back.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

They look at each other wordlessly for a beat before both of them laugh, free and uninhibited. 

“I guess we could probably skip past the awkward part,” Theo says once he’s sat down, grinning at Liam, “you know more about me than most of my friends do, honestly.”

Liam laughs, but the shimmer in his eye suggests that maybe he’s proud, maybe he’s glad that he can be the one to really _see_ Theo, and from there, their conversations are nothing but easy and comfortable.

“Wait, have you seriously never seen the movie?” Liam’s voice is raised, and he’s getting some glares from the people around him, but he’s not inclined to care as much as they might want him to. After all, he _is_ sitting in front of the boy that he spent an entire month searching for just to be here, in this restaurant, laughing with him.

“I really haven’t,” Theo looks sheepish, and he glances down at his empty plate for a reprieve.

“We’re changing that immediately,” Liam says, voice serious, “like, _immediately_ immediately. Like ‘what are you doing after this?’ type of immediately.”

Theo laughs, but there’s a look in his eyes that makes Liam’s stomach do flips. “I’m not doing anything after this.”

Liam smiles back, less enthusiastic, but something softer, “Good. we’re watching it.” 

Theo’s expression doesn’t change, his smile sickeningly sweet, “good.”

Liam’s cheeks flush red and he instinctively ducks down to hide, completely missing the smitten expression that Theo makes towards him, missing the way that Theo’s hand quickly brushes over his heart as it beats a little faster. 

They split one dessert, a chocolate cake with a single cherry on top, two forks set down by the waitress. Their conversation continues throughout it until it’s just the cherry left on the plate. Theo grabs it with his fork and grips the fork a little harder, hoping his nervousness isn’t as obvious to Liam as it is to himself. He brings the fork up to Liam’s mouth and quirks one side of his mouth, the other following suit when Liam’s face returns to that pretty shade of pink. 

Liam opens his mouth and takes the cherry, giving Theo a closed-mouth smile while he chews. 

Theo doesn’t let Liam split the bill, paying it in full, and the two of them leave the restaurant, Liam just slightly behind Theo. Liam feels completely full somewhere in his heart, he feels fulfilled and happy and ethereal. Theo hadn’t just been words, he hadn’t just been a pretty face, either. Theo is an entire person with an entire personality, and the words that he marked on those pages had just been the absolute tip of the iceberg, the absolute tip of all the amazing that Theo was and all the amazing that he held within him. Liam wants to learn every intricacy, every tick, and every beat, he wants to know Theo and he wants to hold Theo, and he never wants to let go.

In the parking lot, Theo turns around to look at Liam, catching him with his warm, nearly affectionate expression, immediately softening. 

“My parents are nosy, would it be okay if we went to your place to watch?” Liam scratches the back of his neck, feeling caught.

Theo nods, “yeah, of course.”

“Great,” Liam smiles, “I’ll follow you?”

Theo nods again, sending a cheerful thumbs-up. 

Liam gets in his own car, putting his face in his hands so he can calm down, so he can focus all of the fondness, reverence, and affection into something that’s easier to understand. He feels so much warmth all at once, and it is so different from what he usually feels: the numbness, the chill. He feels warmth everywhere, starting from his chest and traveling all the way down to his toes, his fingers, and he feels uncontrollable amounts of joy. He’s smiling so hard that it hurts, scratching through his hair to ground himself, so maybe he can leave the clouds for long enough to drive to Theo’s. 

First dates can be pretty awkward, usually. At least Liam’s pretty sure, though he’s only ever been on two until Theo. Liam and Theo were far from awkward, far from any semblance of uncomfortable or cold, it was like they were always meant to meet like this, and always meant to fit.

Even when they went back to Theo's place to watch the film adaptation of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ , when they both cried their eyes out in front of each other, all messy and snotty, things just felt right. Liam's universe finally felt aligned. _**Suddenly he's twelve on Christmas morning again.**_

✒✒✒✒

Nearly six months later, Liam wakes up on a warm June morning, his body practically fused to Theo’s, two heartbeats beating in time to the tune of their adoration. Theo is already awake, and he’s doing that creepy thing that he does where he stares at Liam with that smitten, lovesick expression, all sleep-soft and cute.

“Good morning,” Theo makes the short distance to place a soft kiss on Liam’s forehead, “happy birthday, beautiful.”

Liam smiles, goofy and tired, closing the gap to kiss Theo’s lips, and then again and again. “Thank you.” 

Theo smiles, kissing the tip of Liam’s nose. 

“I have something for you,” Theo untangles himself from the knot of limbs the two of them had ended up in, moving to the edge of the bed to grab his backpack. Theo’s hand emerges with a rectangular gift, neatly wrapped with a bow on top. He hands it to Liam, giving his hand a quick squeeze when their fingers touch. 

Liam looks hesitantly at Theo, then back down to the gift, tearing it open slowly. Though he’s slow, he feels sparks in his chest, excitement in his veins. Every day with Theo is a day where he doesn’t need to fake his cheer, he doesn’t need to act happy, because every fiber of his being is truly overjoyed.

The wrapping is off, slowly, but surely, unwrapped to reveal a new, pristine copy of the same novel that had brought them together in the first place. When Liam looks up, eyes questioning, Theo looks shy, fiddling with the blanket beneath them. 

“I think we should annotate one together, ya know?” He finished with a shrug, flushing slightly under Liam’s unwavering gaze.

Liam launches himself at Theo, toppling both of them over and onto the floor. Liam’s smile is the sun, and Theo wants to soak up every drop. Liam leans down, planting a quick kiss on Theo’s lips, keeping their foreheads together. “I love that idea. Almost as much as I love you.” He finishes with another quick kiss.

Theo gapes for a second, his heart thumping a dangerous speed, his brain thinking about everything until suddenly he’s thinking about nothing, simply just _Liam_. He leans up to meet Liam’s forehead again, a dizzying concoction brewing in his chest, “I love you too.”

✒✒✒✒

Liam has never been the sharpest tool in the shed, and knowing that is what allows him to admit when he’s wrong as easily as he does. Now, he can, _and will_ admit that he was wrong. He was wrong when he thought that he wasn’t searching for anything in particular. He was wrong about it all. Because when he is with Theo, in his arms, or watching him laugh with Mason and Corey, or listening to him tell a story, he _knows_ that Theo was it, Theo was what he was searching for. They fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly made to be in each other’s arms.

Eventually, Liam donates most of the copies of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ that he had collected over the years. He has the notes of all of the different copies, detailed enough to see the bigger picture without needing each particular copy. He keeps the ones that occupy his shelf of favourites, adding his own copy and Theo’s copy alongside them. 

Heaven, Liam thinks, is the way that he feels when he and Theo annotate their own copy. Heaven is when one of them is reading softly, the other in his lap while the reader cards lazy fingers through soft hair, adding in their annotations as they go. Heaven is being by Theo’s side, and no rom-com could ever prepare Liam for that.


End file.
